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I love money. Money makes me feel better. Money makes me feel safe and warm and like I’ve made it in this world.

You know what people don’t give you money for?

Just about anything I do.

So, last Tuesday (or Wednesday, I’m not sure. Being unemployed absolutely destroys your sense of time.), I decided it was time to find something I could do that wouldn’t crush my soul and that would allow me to make enough paper to keep my fish fed and my jeans just holey enough to say that I’m freewheelin’, but not so holey as to suggest that someone needs to pray for me.

I applied online to get certified teach English at the high school level. I’m going to be the most popular boy in school because I can change everyone’s grades and I’m taller than most of the other kids.

I started the online portion this week. They have a lesson for calling on the students. Their methods differ greatly from my own, in which I simply point, and with an expression of bald, pallid terror, scream and point at the child. They want me to call the child by his or her name–their real name, not one of the many hilarious nick names (based largely on their physical appearance) that I would ascribe to them.

Below are some pictures of kids that came up when I typed “high school student” into Google Image Search, as well as an example of the nickname I would give that child.

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Ugly Joe.

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Butt Mouth

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Ghost (I call him this because, three years from now, that’s what he’ll be.)

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Dude, Where’s My Future?

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Haha, great. Really great.

Of course, if my future employers were to read this, they may be troubled. I’d like to personally extend this message to any prospective employer who stumbled upon my page while Googling “Robert Irion,” “Kyle Irion,” or “tree sex.” It’s from my favorite President, John F. Kennedy, sent to exile leader Pepe San Roman on April 17, 1961–the day of the Bay of Pigs invasion: